


Special Children

by Aini_NuFire



Series: Apocalypse Wars [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel True Forms, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Sam Winchester, Big Brother Gabriel, Camp Chitaqua, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Demon True Forms, Demons, Gen, Seasons 4-5, grace as spirit animals, mild Cas whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-19 18:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11903577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire
Summary: Sam and Castiel set out in search of answers for why the Yellow-Eyed demon fed Sam its blood all those years ago, and why demons are again interested in the young Winchester now that the Apocalypse is in full swing. Back at Camp Chitaqua, Dean and Gabriel come to an understanding.





	1. Chapter 1

 

* * *

THEN

_"What will you do now?"_

_"I need to find my brother." Dean Winchester shifted his weight, his aura radiating uncertainty as he gazed out upon the apocalyptic landscape that had once been the Earth he'd known. Smoke rose from ravaged towns; the sky was murky with it._

_Castiel considered this human he had just rescued from the Pit, an act which had been more of a whim than anything, though something inside him had been struck by the sacrifice he'd witnessed, this mortal hunter holding off the hounds of Hell so his brother could help other humans escape._

_War had started, but Castiel no longer had a place in it; he had turned his back on Heaven's creed, which had somehow shifted from their original mandate to one of violence and bloodshed. Castiel wanted to uphold the duty he knew was right—protecting humanity. He just didn't know what one single angel could do in the face of such odds._

_But, perhaps…he could start with one._

_"I will help you find your brother."_

_…_

_"Why'd you rescue me from Hell?" Dean asked one night when they'd made camp in a culvert up on a ridge of a park. Fires glowed in the town below, punctured by the echo of gunfire._

_Castiel briefly flicked a look down at the human from where he stood watch at the mouth of the foul smelling drain, canting his head in confusion. "You deserved to be saved."_

_"No offense, and I'm not saying I'm not grateful, but you didn't even know me."_

_"Why did you sacrifice yourself for those people at the Devil's Gate?" Castiel countered. "You didn't know them."_

_Dean's mouth quirked. "Touché."_

_…_

_"Cas, let the squirrel go."_

_"It was attempting to steal your food," Castiel replied, holding the rodent by the back of the neck._

_"I thought angels were guardians of animals, too."_

_"Do you want to share your food?"_

_Dean huffed. "No."_

_Castiel didn't think so. Nourishment was scarce enough as it was. He lifted the squirrel to eye level. "Human food is bad for you," he said, before setting it back down on the ground._

_It bolted away and scampered up a tree to a high branch, then turned around to chatter angrily down at them._

_Dean crossed his arms with a smirk. "Yeah, you told it."_

_…_

_Two months later, they found Sam Winchester, and Castiel watched in slight bafflement as the younger hunter immediately splashed holy water in his brother's face. Castiel supposed the caution was warranted, though, given Sam had last seen his brother being dragged into Hell._

_Dean voluntarily cut his arm with a silver knife. "It's me, Sammy."_

_Sam's expression slackened in dismay and sheer relief, and the two embraced in a fervent hug. Then Sam cast a curious look at Dean's companion._

_"This is Cas. Castiel. He's an angel. Turns out they don't have halos or harps."_

_"Oh my god- uh, I mean," Sam stammered, eyes wide with a wonder Castiel had rarely seen from humans in over a century._

_The young man stuck his hand out eagerly, and Castiel stared at it for a moment before he realized he was probably supposed to take it. He reached out to accept the gesture, placing his other hand over their clasped ones._

_"It's good to finally meet you. Dean has talked about you a lot."_

_And then he sensed it, something dark and disquieting nestled like a seed deep within this young man's very blood._

_…_

_"You sure you don't want to come with us?" Dean asked._

_Castiel fidgeted. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm a soldier. With the Devil's Gate open, there are many demons to fight."_

_Dean nodded sagely. "Don't be a stranger, though, okay?"_

_"If you need me, I'll be able to sense it, and I'll come find you," Castiel assured him. He glanced over to where Sam was packing up his gear from a nearby cabin. He hesitated. "Dean, there's something about Sam…" Castiel didn't how to come out and say it._

_Dean just looked at him sadly. "So you noticed, huh?"_

_Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion. Dean knew?_

_"Guess I kinda figured you might. The demon that killed our mom…she walked into Sammy's nursery and found it feeding Sam his blood."_

_Castiel's eyes widened in alarm._

_"Cas, please don't…" Dean began desperately._

_"I would never hurt your brother," he quickly said. Besides, despite the evil signature lurking beneath the surface, Castiel had also sensed goodness and a pure heart. So he did not consider Sam Winchester an evil abomination to be dealt with._

_No, the only thought on Castiel's mind, was why?_

_…_

NOW

Castiel gazed out the cabin's window at the campgrounds and the mundane activities people were milling about with outside. Life at Camp Chitaqua continued as normal, it seemed, while the atmosphere inside the Winchesters' cabin was heavy with a pall of foreboding. Dean had just finished recounting the events with the "Khan worm," as he called the demonic slug that had invaded people's bodies. All with the mission of retrieving Sam.

Castiel couldn't deny he was very disturbed by this, for multiple reasons. With the Apocalypse already under way, there was no reason the demons should be interested in one single human. It had also been years since Sam had been contaminated by demon blood, and the demon responsible was dead, so who was coming after him now? But above all, Sam was Castiel's friend, and he did not like his friends being threatened.

He turned back to face the brothers. "I have no idea why demons would want Sam," he began. "Though, I can only guess it has something to do with the demon blood."

Sam's gaze was fixed on the floor, his entire posture hunched in his chair and radiating distress…and guilt. It made Castiel's heart ache that this young man should feel responsible for something that was done to him when he was nothing but a child.

"I will do my best to look into it," he promised them. Stepping closer to Sam, he added, "In the meantime, I can carve a protective sigil into your ribs, one that should hide you from demons and prevent any further possessions like the one you experienced."

Sam finally looked up, shaking off some of his despondency in exchange for confusion. "Carve into my ribs?" he repeated dubiously.

"It's a simple matter," Castiel replied. "Though, it may hurt for a moment."

"Sam," Dean said softly from where he was standing near the door.

Sam swallowed. "Yeah, okay. Um, maybe Dean should get one, too. Just to be safe."

"The demons aren't after me—"

"No," Castiel interrupted. "Sam's right."

Dean rolled his eyes, but nevertheless came over to stand next to his brother.

Sam got to his feet. "What exactly—"

Castiel pressed one hand to each of their chests and summoned a flicker of his grace. The procedure only took an instant, but both brothers nearly bent double with a strangled sound of pain in their throats.

"What the hell, man?" Dean gasped.

"I did warn you it would hurt."

Dean clenched a fist against his sternum. "It felt like you branded us."

Castiel just canted his head at them. He'd said he would  _carve_  the sigil into their ribs…

Sam sucked in another breath as he tried to recompose himself. "So, uh, how are you going to find out anything? I mean, Yellow Eyes is dead."

Dean straightened sharply. "Yeah, but Meg's not."

"Who?" Castiel asked.

"Yellow Eyes had two demon minions," Dean explained. "He called them his 'children,' Tom and Meg. Tom is dead, but we only exorcised Meg. And since the Devil's Gate opened, maybe she's made her way topside again. She might even be the 'her' the Khan worm mentioned."

Castiel furrowed his brow in thought. Interesting. But if anyone knew what this "Yellow-Eyed demon" had been up to, it would be someone who'd been close to him.

"Then I'll start by trying to track her down," he said.

"I want to come," Sam spoke up.

Castiel blinked in surprise.

"Uh, Sam, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go looking for the guys  _gunning_  for you," Dean said.

"Dean's right," Castiel put in. "And I'll be able to find information faster on my own."

Sam's jaw tightened. "This is my life, and I'm tired of feeling like some… _unclean_  thing. A demon ruined our lives, Dean. And now they're coming back to use me as some sort of pawn in a war I don't even understand?" He shook his head, expression pinching with anguish. "I deserve to know why."

Dean looked away, his own eyes taking on an unshed sheen. After a long moment, he reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck, and looked to Castiel as though giving him the final decision.

He turned his attention back to Sam, who was gazing at him pleadingly. Castiel could understand the young man's turmoil, and Sam was right; this was his life, and it had been tampered with by forces greater than his understanding. And he deserved to find answers.

"Alright," Castiel said.

Sam let out a breath of tension, seeming surprised at the capitulation. He gave Castiel a grateful nod.

"I could transport you through the ether with me," he began. "But it will be unpleasant, and I don't recommend frequent trips, as humans can asphyxiate on the celestial atmosphere. I suggest we use human means of transportation."

Sam nodded, jitteriness now rolling off him. "I'll go gas up one of the jeeps."

With that, he hurried out the door.

Dean shook his head and turned away.

"I'll watch over him," Castiel assured the older Winchester.

"I know."

Castiel started to leave when Dean spoke up again.

"And, Cas." The hunter gave him a wan yet sincere smile. "Glad you made it back."

Castiel returned the small smile. He and his garrison had failed to close the Devil's Gate and stop the Apocalypse…but he was glad to be here now when the Winchester brothers needed him. He'd personally taken up the mantle of guardian for Dean and Sam, and Castiel would do everything within his power to protect them.

* * *

Once he was behind the wheel and on the road, Sam felt some of his pent up energy start to settle into a steady rhythm synced with the rumble of the jeep's engine. Just the fact that he was doing  _something_ , even if they didn't actually have any leads yet, gave him a firm focus and purpose.

He glanced at the angel in the passenger seat. "So, uh, how are we going to find Meg?"

"I suggest we capture a humanoid demon and interrogate it," Cas replied.

Sam shrugged his brows. "Shouldn't be too hard," he muttered, and took the highway leading into the city that angel Zachariah had tried to nuke because of its heavy demon infestation. The trick, of course, would be to find one of the humanoid ones, like Cas said, and not the beastly monsters the Pit had also spat out onto Earth.

Sam parked the jeep on the outskirts of town; there was greater risk of drawing attention if they took it further in, so they'd have to proceed on foot. He got an MP5 sub machine gun loaded with angel bullets out of the back. Cas waited patiently until he was ready, almost looking like some kind of futuristic soldier in his dark jeans and zipped up black jacket and carrying no weapons at all.

Because he was one.

"The kind of demon we need would probably be holed up in a place of luxury," the angel said. "I've noticed they seem to enjoy liquor as much as Balthazar does."

Sam's mouth quirked. "I know of a bar a few blocks over. We can start there."

He missed the days of Wi-Fi and Google maps to look up addresses. If they didn't find a demon at the first location, they'd have to resort to a grid search, which would be more time consuming and dangerous.

Sam led the way, keeping his eyes peeled along the broken and shattered windows of the surrounding buildings for things creeping within. Fortunately, he knew most of the demons preferred the center of the city, so they shouldn't run into any hordes just yet.

_The Roark_  used to be a fine pub with good food and good beer. Sam had only been a handful of times during his time on the road with his brother, but the place had made an impression. It was a shame to see it now, windows boarded up, authentic oak door covered in gouges from frantic claws. Trash littered the sidewalk out front.

Cas came to an abrupt halt. "There's warding against angels here," he said.

Sam straightened with alertness. That meant a demon probably had made himself at home inside. He scanned the street. "I can sneak in and disable it," he said.

He knew what that type of warding looked like, as they had it installed back at Camp Chitaqua. They'd just also incorporated an adjoining sigil with Cas's and a few other angels' names so they could bypass it.

Cas's jaw looked tight. "If you're caught, I won't be able to get in there."

"I've handled demons before," Sam pointed out, and hefted his MP5 for good measure. If worse came to worst, he could simply riddle the repellant sigil with bullets to neutralize it. The demon, they wanted alive.

Cas's shoulders were tense with displeasure, but they had no other means of getting them both inside, and they couldn't wait around for the demon to decide to come out. So Sam gave the angel one last look before heading around the side of the building toward the back entrance.

It wasn't locked; why would it be? Sam grimaced as the door grated open, revealing a dark interior. Taking a deep breath, he ventured inside. The place was musty, air cloying with the odor of alcohol and cigarette smoke. He passed by the kitchen, pots and pans scattered across a floor stained with all manner of substances. The floor of the bar was just as messy, with overturned tables and broken chairs. There was, however, a nice row of empty liquor bottles lined up on the counter. Someone had been busy.

Sam cautiously swept his gun around the room, but it was empty. Maybe the demon had made himself at home in the loft upstairs, but Sam wasn't going to take the time to check. He spotted the warding on the inside of the window boards, done in bright red spray paint, and went straight toward it. Lowering his weapon to free one hand, he reached for his knife and began to slash through the junctures of the sigil.

Something thudded on the floor above him, making him flinch with a burst of terror. He started to hack at the warding more urgently. There…

A bottle clinked, and Sam whirled around, coming face to face with a bearded man a good foot shorter than him. But his eyes flicked black.

"Come in for a drink?" the demon said, mouth cracking into a minacious grin.

Sam scrambled to raise his gun, but before he could get a shot off, the demon grabbed the weapon and wrenched it so hard that Sam went flying. He hit the floor and slid several feet through detritus. Stomping footsteps quickly followed, and then the gun was yanked from his grip and tossed aside. The demon leaned down and sneered.

"It's been a while since I've had some entertainment."

Sam slashed with his silver knife, catching him across the chest and making him lurch backward. It wouldn't actually hurt a demon, but Sam only needed to buy another second…

Cas zipped out of the ether, fist wreathed in crackling blue electricity, and delivered a sucker-punch to the demon's jaw before the bastard even knew what hit him. He crashed to the floor with a loud thud and didn't move.

Sam's chest was heaving from the adrenaline rush, but he lifted his head with a quirked smile at the angel. "See? Teamwork."

Cas just gave him a long-suffering look. "I'll prepare a devil's trap."

He strode around the counter, presumably to find something to draw with. Sam pushed himself to his feet and gazed down at the unconscious demon.

Time to start getting some damn answers.

* * *

Dean poured his frustrations into his efforts to sand down the tree stump with the sigil that Khan worm had defaced. It was slow, tedious work, pushing the sandpaper forward over and over again. He'd been at it for hours already, but finally the harsh lines and gouges were beginning to smooth out. Once it was completely gone, they could mark it with the protective warding again.

"Shouldn't that be the swabbie's job?" someone called.

Dean stiffened, one hand immediately going for the gun laying on the ground beside him when he didn't recognize the voice. He paused before drawing it, however, as he took in the lone figure standing six feet away, hands in the pockets of a brown leather aviator jacket, complete with the wide, fur-lined collar folded down the shoulders. All that was missing was the sunglasses.

"Gabriel," he said, somewhat surprised. "What brings you here?" They hadn't had a visit from the archangel since Cas had brought some of his garrison to Camp Chitaqua as a kind of 'get-to-know-your-charges' field trip.

Gabriel shrugged both shoulders and walked closer. "Wanted to see what's always drawing Castiel away." He swept his gaze over the campgrounds.

Dean slowly stood up, wiping the back of his arm across his sweaty brow. "Uh, Cas isn't here."

"I know." Gabriel turned a shrewd gaze back to him. "He sent me a message about his little outing."

Dean didn't say anything, not sure what the angel had come here looking for.

They held that silent stare for a prolonged moment before Gabriel broke it, shifting his gaze down to the tree stump.

"I also heard you had some trouble with the wards."

Dean continued to eye the archangel warily. "Yeah. Could've been worse, though. Khan worm just got to three."

Gabriel arched a brow. "Khan worm? Nice. I personally like to call them Goa'uld."

Dean quirked a confused brow, to which the angel rolled his eyes.

"Really? You never watched  _Stargate_?"

"I was more of a  _Dr. Sexy_  kind of guy."

Gabriel pursed his mouth and canted his head in apparent appreciation. Nice to know some angels had bothered to watch television.

"I'm surprised," he went on, starting to pace around the stump. "I thought you'd want Castiel to fix these."

"He left me a notebook with the sigils to carve," Dean replied. "I can do it. What are you really trying to ask here?"

Gabriel's eyes narrowed a fraction. "Like I said, I'm curious why he's so intent on always checking up on you. We took every measure to ensure you could make a self-sustaining home here."

Dean bristled at the veiled disapproval. "Cas is my friend."

"Ye-eah," Gabriel drawled. "It's just, that ain't exactly normal, you know."

"I thought your little private army was all about protecting humans."

"Protect. Not get chummy with."

Dean crossed his arms. "Well, Cas is different."

Gabriel nodded thoughtfully.

Dean waited for several beats to see if this impromptu interrogation was over.

Finally, Gabriel shrugged dismissively and plastered on a debonair grin.

"I'll give you a hand with the warding."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam stepped back from securing the demon to a chair just as it was regaining consciousness. It jerked sharply, eyes flashing to onyx orbs as it yanked against the wrist restraints. When its gaze fell on the devil's trap Cas had painted with a can of spray paint he'd found behind the bar counter, the demon let out a spitting hiss.

"Not very sporting."

"As I'm sure you had every intention of being," Cas replied dryly. He drew his angel blade, and only then did Sam see a flaw in their plan.

He quickly drew Cas aside and lowered his voice. "What about the host?"

Cas quirked a brow at him. "Oh, this isn't one of the lower demons who can't take corporeal form unless they possess a human. This one is a level up. That body is his own."

Sam frowned. "Wait, how?" His experience with demons had been with black, vaporous forms.

"After souls corrupted in Hell grow strong enough, they're eventually able to reclaim their original visage," Cas explained.

"Oh." Sam glanced back at their captive. "So, this guy's stronger than Meg?"

"If you were able to exorcise her, then yes."

Sam paused. "What are the chances she's grown powerful enough since we last saw her to…retake her original form?"

"I don't know." Cas turned back to the demon. "Perhaps you'd like to answer that question?"

The demon chuckled. "Maybe if I knew what the hell you two yahoos were talking about."

"The demon Meg, do you know her?" Cas asked.

"Can't say I do."

Sam tried not to fidget nervously as Cas strode closer, lifting the tip of the angel blade to the demon's cheek.

"How about a demon with yellow eyes."

"Yellow eyes, huh?" He smirked. "I'm more into black, myself." The demon fluttered his lashes over those inky spheres flirtatiously.

Cas waited a beat before slicing his blade down the demon's face, eliciting a pained cry and a sputter of orange from the laceration. "I'm not leaving here without answers. Where can I find the demon Meg?"

The demon's cheeks puffed red, but he kept his jaw clamped tight. After another prolonged moment, Cas slashed the blade across the demon's chest. It threw its head back with a garbled scream.

"Agh, I don't know where Meg is!" he finally spat. "I haven't seen her since Azazel died."

Cas visibly stiffened at the name, and Sam didn't miss the look of apprehension that flickered across the angel's face. It made the knot of dread already coiled in his stomach tighten further.

"This Azazel wouldn't happen to have yellow eyes, would he?" Sam asked the demon.

Their prisoner sneered. "So what if he did?"

Cas stepped away from the demon, expression disturbed.

"Cas?" Sam prompted, fear welling up inside him. "You recognize the name?"

A muscle in the angel's jaw ticked as he dropped his gaze in apparent dismay. "Azazel is a Prince of Hell. Or was, I should say." He shook his head. "I can't believe you and Dean managed to kill him."

Sam's brows rose sharply. A Prince of Hell? That sounded…bad. "What exactly is a Prince of Hell?"

"The oldest of demons," Cas replied. "Lucifer turned them himself, trained them to be generals to lead demonic armies in the war against Heaven."

Sam frowned. "Why would a Prince of Hell go around feeding his blood to human children?"

Cas lifted a dark gaze to his. "I don't know. But this is much more serious than I feared."

A spiky lump started settling in Sam's throat. So, not only was he contaminated by a demon, but by the worst demon ever created. Could this nightmare get any worse?

"Ah, so that's it," their captive spoke up, leaning back in his chair with a smug moue. "I thought there was something different about you. A…smell, if you will."

Sam's breath caught in his throat.

"How fascinating," the demon went on, leering at him. "You're not one hundred percent human, are you?"

Sam's chest constricted to the point where it was getting difficult to draw breath. That was his greatest fear…and to have a demon confirm it…Sam wanted to run, far, far away. But there was nowhere he could go to escape from himself.

Cas stormed over and grabbed the demon by his hair, wrenching his head back to expose his throat. "With Azazel dead, where would Meg go?"

The demon grunted, and Cas brought the tip of his blade up under his chin.

"Ungh, how should I know?" he snarled.

"Make an educated  _guess_."

Sam swallowed, admittedly unnerved by Castiel's intensity. He was glad to have the angel on his side.

The demon continued to grunt and rage until a trickle of blood started running down his neck. "Arg, if she was anywhere, it'd probably be one of Lucifer's crypts."

"Location," Cas demanded calmly, an air that was belied by the near crackle in his eyes.

"I only know of one! North Platte. But I don't know the exact address. You think I was trusted with that?"

Cas straightened, withdrawing the blade, and looked at Sam. "I suspect that's all we're going to get out of him."

Sam nodded. North Platte was a several-hour drive from there. As long as they didn't run into any trouble along the way.

He just wasn't sure anymore whether he wanted to find the answers to his questions.

Cas pivoted and drove his angel blade into the demon's chest. Orange lightning spritzed throughout his skeleton as a smoky serpent reared up above the demon's head before dissipating into black mist. Cas yanked his blade out and cleaned it on the demon's pant leg.

"I suggest we get moving. We might make it to North Platte by sunset, and then we can resume the search for the crypt in the morning." Cas stepped over the devil's trap. "Sam?"

Sam swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Are you sure we should keep going with this?"

Cas's face scrunched up in confusion. "Demons are after you for a reason, Sam. The sooner we figure out what that reason is, the better we can find a way to protect you."

"What if- what if we find out that I am a monster," he said thickly. "That you'll have to kill me, just like my dad warned Dean he might have to?"

Cas drew his shoulders back. "Sam Winchester, you are not a monster. You are one of the most decent human beings I have ever had the honor of knowing."

Sam looked away. He wanted to believe that, but he couldn't just ignore that there was something  _wrong_  inside of him.

"If you want to go back, we can," Cas went on. "But I am going to keep searching for answers. Because you are my friend."

Sam lifted his eyes back to the angel, whose expression was filled with unwavering resolve.

"No matter what those answers are," he added, holding Sam's gaze.

And Sam was inclined to believe him.

He let out a shaky breath. "North Platte it is."

Cas nodded, and they left behind the dead demon in the desecrated bar to head back to the jeep.

Once they were beyond the ruined city, driving across the country almost provided a false sense of normality—the view of the countryside was wild and flourishing as it had always been, the road empty for miles at a time. Of course, Sam was the one behind the wheel and he wasn't with his brother in the Impala. And whenever they passed rest stops and gas stations, those places were always abandoned. So, a scenic drive, but one on which they still needed to keep their guard up.

They were an hour outside of North Platte when Sam had to slow the jeep to a stop in the middle of the highway. Up ahead, several cars were smashed together across the entire road. On the right was a ditch, and the left was dense orchards, which meant there was no driving around the pile-up.

Cas reached for his door handle. "I can move it."

"Wait," Sam blurted, grabbing Cas's arm.

The angel cast him a confused look. "What's wrong?"

"This looks a little…orchestrated."

Frowning, Cas turned his gaze back to the blockade. After a moment, he said, "Because if this were a naturally occurring accident, there would be more debris on the road. And the vehicles would not be as compacted."

"Exactly." Sam pursed his mouth as he considered their options, yet before he could put the jeep in reverse, a dozen figures came barreling out from the orchard and up from the ditch, all of them armed with rifles and automatic weapons. Their vehicle was quickly surrounded.

"Out of the car. Hands up," one of the grizzly men ordered.

Sam's jaw tightened as he slowly raised his palms off the steering wheel.

"I'll handle this," Cas said, opening his door.

"Cas," Sam sputtered, but the angel had already exited, looking nothing more than put-out at having several guns trained on him.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

The gang leader laughed. "The meaning of this? Well, I'll tell you. This is our road. No one comes through without paying the toll."

"I don't imagine many people travel through here," Cas said, flicking a wry look at the barricade. "But what is your price?"

Sam gritted his teeth and considered the handgun in his shoulder holster under his jacket, but there were still too many eyes on him to be able to reach for it before getting shot himself.

The leader smirked. "The price will be your vehicle and anything inside it." His gaze roved down. "Maybe even your boots."

Cas's eyes narrowed. "You're nothing more than common thugs."

"We're just out here trying to survive," the man replied, though it was clear by his lecherous grin that he enjoyed robbing unsuspecting travelers.

Something in Cas's expression darkened, and Sam realized these guys had absolutely no idea what they were dealing with. He shifted anxiously.

"I have a counter offer," Cas said. "We pass, and you get to leave with all your bones intact."

The gang leader's smug mien hardened, and he took a few steps closer to the angel. "I don't take kindly to idle threats."

"Idle threats shouldn't bother you," Cas replied blandly. "And I don't make them."

He lashed out to grab the man's rifle, bending the barrel up like it was putty. Then he thrust the vertical barrel into the man's face with a force that probably shattered his nose, if the spray of crimson was anything to go by. Sam's heart seized as all the other guns whipped toward Cas and started firing, but an opalescent shimmer whooshed up around the angel like a shield. The bullets dropped to the ground like zapped flies.

Sam went for his gun while all the attention was off him, and then he scrambled out of the jeep, staying behind the open door for cover. He didn't need to fire off a round, though.

Cas's eyes had started glowing, and the angel took a menacing step toward the robbers. "Beat it," he growled.

Half of them split at that, darting back into the orchard. The others exchanged nervous looks before following. Their leader staggered to his feet, sputtering in horror at Cas's frightening visage before he, too, fled into the trees.

Still glowing, Cas strode toward one end of the blockade and bent down to place his hands under the rim of a bumper. Then, with one heave, he lifted the car off the ground and flung it into the ditch, opening up a narrow space for them to drive through. The light of his grace receded as he turned back to the jeep.

Sam let out a tense breath. "Nice."

Cas looked angry as he stormed back over. "Humanity would have a much better chance at survival if they all worked together."

Sam's brows rose sharply. "Uh, yeah, I guess. But there's always gonna be people like that, people who crave power too much and enjoy lording it over others who are weaker."

Cas paused at the front of the jeep to look at him. "If you ever need to be reminded of what constitutes a monster, that's it," he said, jerking his head toward the orchard where the gang had disappeared into.

The corner of Sam's mouth tugged upward at that. "Right." Humans didn't need demon blood in their veins to do evil. And actions made the man, not the genes.

He and Cas climbed back into their vehicle and resumed their drive, though they only made it another half hour before the sun started to set and they were forced to pull over for the night. Traveling after dark required headlights due to unpredictable road conditions, but that would be like a beacon to any demons roaming the area. Sam found a small copse of trees he was able to pull off the road into, providing some concealment.

"I'll keep watch," Cas said, hopping out of the vehicle so Sam could stretch out across the front seat.

He grabbed a blanket from the back. The night wasn't freezing, but it wasn't warm. Cicadas thrummed in the surrounding dark.

"Is this what your time with Dean was like?" Sam asked, suddenly curious.

"When?" Though it was dark, Sam could sense the angel's presence just outside the door.

"When you were helping him look for me." Sam imagined Cas had stood guard at night while Dean slept, just like this.

"In many ways, yes," Cas replied softly. "Now get some sleep, Sam."

Sam closed his eyes. Being out here like this reminded him of that time shortly after the Devil's Gate had opened and he'd lost his brother. He'd been alone, scared, unsure what to do as the world fell apart around him. It was still falling apart by degrees, but tonight, with Cas right outside, he actually felt safe.

* * *

Dean watched Gabriel press a palm against the fence post they'd finished shaving down to a new layer, the archangel's hand glowing gold for a few moments. When he moved away, there was a brand new sigil sizzling in the wood, some bits still simmering orange before the embers winked out. Dean reached up to rub his chest, remembering that feeling when Cas had carved similar protective sigils into his ribs.

Gabriel stood up. "That's the last one."

"That doesn't look like the sigil that was there before," Dean said with a frown.

"Call it an upgrade."

Oh. "Thanks," he said, and pulled a rag from his back pocket to wipe his hands with. His stomach rumbled. They'd worked through the afternoon and evening, but at least everything was restored and the camp secure once again.

Or, as secure as they could anticipate.

A scream rent the air out of the blue, a female voice in utter agony. Dean grimaced.

Gabriel cocked his head to the side. "You got a torture chamber I don't know about?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's Steve's wife. She's been in labor for the past two days."

Another wail echoed from one of the cabins.

"Guess it's finally getting on with it." Dean certainly hoped so, anyway. Half the camp was on edge waiting for this kid to make its appearance. Dean had a hard time understanding why Steve and Mariana would want to raise a child when the world was going to hell, but it wasn't like they'd planned the pregnancy. And by the time Mariana realized she was carrying, it had been a little late for an easy abortion. So, here they were.

"Ah, childbirth," Gabriel mused. "One of nature's miracles."

Dean snorted. "Nature has a twisted sense of humor; it does sound like torture."

Gabriel canted his head. "No argument there."

Dean looked up as someone started sprinting across the campgrounds toward them. It was Jo, and her tense expression made Dean stiffen.

"What is it?" he asked.

She cast a brief look of wariness at Gabriel before turning to answer him. "Mom says the baby turned. It's gonna be a breach birth."

Dean frowned. Jo sounded upset, but he wasn't following. "You're gonna have to spell that out for me."

"It means the baby won't come out head first," Jo explained. "It means there could be complications. If we were in a hospital, they'd do a C-section, but we can't here."

Dean may not have fully understood what all that entailed, but he could read between the lines. "Yeah, alright," he said in resignation. "Tell your mom to just do the best she can. Where's Steve?"

"With Keith in his cabin. Mariana kicked him out a while ago."

Dean nodded. He'd break the news to the man. God, sometimes he hated being considered the camp 'leader.'

"Ah, I could help," Gabriel spoke up.

Dean shot him a dubious look. "Really?"

"Have you ever delivered a baby before?" Jo asked skeptically.

The archangel crossed his arms. "I was present for two very prestigious births, I'll have you know. John the Baptist was touch and go there for a minute, too."

Jo cast Dean an uncertain look, to which he just shrugged. None of the rest of them were qualified to deliver a baby, and certainly not one that presented dangerous complications.

"We'd appreciate it," Dean said, and started leading the angel toward the cabin where the women had set up the 'delivery room.'

Inside, Mariana was lying in a bed propped up with multiple pillows. A stack of towels was ready on a stool, and Ellen was busy running a wet cloth over Mariana's sweat-soaked forehead. They both looked over in confusion at the guys' entrance.

"This is Gabriel, the archangel," Dean introduced. "He's here to help."

Ellen's brows shot up to her hairline, while Mariana shifted in fear.

"Don't be afraid," Gabriel said, coming closer. He flashed a quirky grin over his shoulder at Dean. "I had to say that to John the Baptist's parents, too."

He moved to the side of the bed and slowly lowered his hand over the pregnant woman's swollen belly. "Now, John's dad, when I first told him he was going to have a son, was quite the Doubting Thomas," Gabriel went on blithely. "I mean, sure, he was way up there in age, but still. When an angel of the lord tells you some good news, you should be happy. This guy asked how he could be sure what I said was true. I told him, 'Bitch, please, I'm  _Gabriel_.'"

Dean watched as Mariana was too distracted by the chatter to hold onto her fear, and Gabriel's hands kept moving with purposeful yet subtle movements around her stomach.

"And then I took his voice away until the kid was born," Gabriel finished.

Ellen shot Dean an incredulous look as though to ask if he knew what he was doing, bringing this guy in here. Dean honestly didn't know. He supposed he was…going on faith.

"Sorry, don't know your name," Gabriel said to Ellen, "but you might want to get ready to receive the package." He flashed Mariana a beaming smile, hands still folded over her belly. "Now, you're gonna have to push."

Dean winced as screams once more filled the cabin.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel and Sam arrived in North Platte early the following morning. It was a small town, which would make searching for the location of Lucifer's crypt somewhat easier.

"I need a higher vantage point," Castiel said once Sam had parked the jeep.

"Uh, okay." He turned the engine off. "How about that apartment building? We can go up the fire escape."

Castiel nodded, and climbed out of the vehicle. He paused for a moment to listen, but the area was silent. He didn't know whether that was a good sign or not; either Lucifer's crypt would be heavily guarded, or it was such a well-protected secret that only a few select demons, like this Meg, knew where it was. Hopefully the latter was the case.

They cautiously made their way across the street and up the four-story building's fire escape. The town was remarkably undamaged, given the state of the world elsewhere, though like many human dwellings, it appeared abandoned. Survivors could have been in hiding here, though. As long as they weren't of the same mindset as those brigands on the highway.

Once on the roof, Castiel began to scan the town, narrowing his celestial senses on that of the unseen.

"Wouldn't Lucifer's crypt be warded against angels?" Sam asked.

"Lucifer is an angel." Castiel continued to slowly rove his gaze around, senses peeled. "No, it would be warded against angel detection."

"Uh…then how will you find it?"

"By searching for nothing."

Castiel could sense Sam's dissatisfaction with that answer, but he was too focused on his task to explain further at the moment. He had to do a complete sweep of the entire town to be sure, but then he turned back to the cemetery and pointed. "There."

Sam frowned. "How do you know?"

"When I focus on every other area, I can see the chords of creation," Castiel elaborated. "But when I look there, I see nothing."

Sam's confusion smoothed into understanding. "Because it's shielded."

"Exactly."

They made their way back down the fire escape, and then Sam drove them across town to the cemetery. Castiel hadn't expected Lucifer's crypt to be so literal, though it made sense; the fallen archangel would have stored his cache of various possessions in a place that would stand against the changing times. And there were few places left undisturbed by developers than graveyards.

Castiel kept his guard up as he and Sam approached the one large and stately mausoleum on the grounds. So far, though, it appeared they were the only ones here. That was both encouraging…and not.

Castiel walked straight up to the granite door and gripped the wrought-iron handle. With a firm wrench, the ancient lock snapped like brittle and the slab creaked open. Castiel descended the steps first.

Inside was musty and stale, dust motes cloying the air and tickling at Castiel's nose. Sam let out a small cough behind him. The chamber was filled with rickety shelves and crates stacked on the floor. Everything was draped in cobwebs.

"Doesn't look like anyone's been here in a while," Sam said grimly. "Not even Meg."

"No," Castiel agreed. "But we should look through the items here. We might discover the locations of the other crypts, or perhaps even something about Azazel and his plans."

Sam shrugged, and took the shelves on the right while Castiel went left. There was an odd assortment of artifacts and weapons in the crypt, some which Castiel recognized as being from Heaven's vaults. He should send a message to Gabriel about the find; some of these items would greatly aid their garrison in the war. At the very least, they wouldn't want them ending up in the hands of either Hell or Heaven.

A dark presence suddenly filled the chamber, and Castiel whirled to find a shadowed figure standing at the top of the entry. Sam noticed Castiel's stance, and flinched in alarm when he also spotted their surprise visitor.

Light footsteps slowly descended into the crypt, revealing a lithe woman dressed in a flowing white gown. Blond locks cascaded over bare shoulders, but Castiel's gaze was fixed on her eyes. They were white.

"Lilith," he breathed.

The demon paused halfway down the steps, a simpering moue on her porcelain features. "You've been a difficult one to track down, Samuel," she purred. "So imagine my surprise to find you here, of all places."

Castiel mentally berated himself; they'd probably tripped some kind of alarm at their entrance. But of all the demons he might have thought would come investigate, Lilith was not one of them…

His stomach dropped with dawning horror. "You sent the worm after Sam." The 'her' wasn't Meg; it was  _Lilith_. Lilith, the first demon Lucifer ever created. Which meant whatever Azazel had been up to, it had to be at Lucifer's direction.

Lilith arched a delicate brow. "Hello, angel. Mhm, I don't recognize you as a devout follower of Lucifer." She made her way down the rest of the steps.

Castiel put himself in front of Sam. "I'm not. And you're not taking Sam Winchester."

He unleashed his grace with a crackling roar that filled the underground crypt with blazing bluish-white light. Lilith merely cracked her lips in a minacious grin, and black smoke burst up behind her, five coils splitting into a nebulous hydra. They screeched as she attacked.

Castiel's panther swiped a paw at the demon, but she twisted agilely away from the claws. He lunged after her. The serpent heads struck out in various directions. One sank its fangs into the panther's shoulder; another ducked underneath at Castiel's core. He threw an arm up to block, and nearly cried out when the snake latched onto his arm.

Forgoing throwing the hydra off, Castiel gritted his teeth and pushed forward to punch Lilith across the face. She fell back against the steps, expression stupefied for a split second. But then the rage exploded and with an angry shriek, the hydra heads reeled back. Castiel's muscles coiled to strike, yet before he could, the tenebrous serpents came shooting forward all at once. They slammed into his front, propelling him through nearby shelves and into the wall with a dull crack. Castiel hit the ground, dazed.

"Cas!"

Through blurred vision, he saw Sam swing a long metal object at Lilith, but she caught it mid-strike. With a hiss, she shoved him away with enough force that he went sliding into the other wall.

Castiel struggled to get to his feet. He couldn't let Lilith take Sam; he'd promised Dean.

Lilith spread her arms and uttered something low and guttural under her breath. Black flames ignited in her hands. Castiel stumbled upright just as she threw them on the ground where they went up with a whoosh, circling around either side of him until he was trapped against the wall by an arc of hellfire. Castiel jerked back.

Lilith relaxed her demeanor, her hydra form folding into her. "Nice try, angel." She turned to face Sam, stalking toward him with a sultry sashay.

He was on the ground, back pressed against the rear wall. All color had drained from his face, but Castiel could see him lifting his chin.

"What do you want with me?" he demanded, despite the tremor in his voice.

"You're a special child, Sam Winchester," she replied. "One of many, actually. And Hell has very special plans for all of you."

"What plans?" he bit out.

Lilith moved closer. "Come with me and find out."

Castiel's heart was pounding erratically in his chest. He had to get out, had to stop her. He cast a frantic look at the towering flames, trying to gauge whether he could cross without killing himself outright.

Lilith was right in front of Sam, reaching a hand down to him.

The Winchester's eyes hardened. "I don't think so."

He whipped out his handgun and fired five times. Lilith's body jerked with each impact that drove her backwards. Castiel froze.

Lilith slowly lifted her head, expression slack in utter shock. She let out a choked gasp, and each of the bullet wounds flickered orange as black vapor started to ooze from them. She probably hadn't figured Sam would be carrying angel bullets.

Her body dropped with a thud on the cold stone where it twitched and shuddered, spewing more dark smoke into the air.

Sam scrambled to his feet, moving to stand over her, gun still in hand. "What plans does Hell have?" he nearly shouted.

She let out a gargled laugh. "You'll find out soon enough." Her body spasmed, and then with a final wheeze, she fell still, head lolling to the side and white eyes turning gray.

The hellfire she had conjured simmered down into nothing. Sam lifted a haunted gaze to Castiel. They'd come looking for answers, but had only found more dire questions.

* * *

Gabriel didn't bother with the human convention of knocking, and instead popped straight into Dean's cabin, startling the human so he nearly tripped over a chair.

"No, come right in," the hunter grumbled.

"I thought a celebratory toast was in order," Gabriel said, lifting the bottle of fine wine he'd zipped back to the angel compound to pick up.

Dean arched a brow, but didn't object. He walked over to the desk in the room and pulled two shot glasses from the bottom drawer. "I'm not really a wine guy, but given the occasion, I won't say no."

Gabriel grinned, and popped open the cork with his bare hands. "Don't tell Balthazar, but I got it from his stash." He poured the mulberry liquid into the glasses.

Dean snorted. "Your secret's safe with me."

Gabriel raised the glass to his nose and took a good whiff. "Ah, 1964 Bordeaux. Good year."

"I'll take your word for it." Dean lifted his glass. "To healthy babies."

"To little Gabby." Gabriel had to admit he was oddly tickled that the parents had named their child after him. It was certainly a more appreciative response than Zechariah's had been, the old coot.

Dean's lips twitched. "Can an angel be a godfather?"

Gabriel shrugged. "This kid is the first one born into the end of the world. I think she'll need all the guardian angels she can get."

"Yeah, no kidding," Dean said under his breath.

They both then busied themselves with sipping the wine.

"Okay, look," Gabriel broke the silence. "I still don't entirely get why Castiel has taken to you and your brother." Though, the past twenty-four hours had given him a bit of a glimpse into it. "Or vice versa, for that matter," he added. Because that was the real mystery—two humans befriending an angel like he was one of them.

"But," Gabriel went on. "I do think you've been good for my little brother."

Dean regarded him for a moment. "It's mutual. I wouldn't be here without Cas."

"Don't get me started on that little Hell stunt of his," he huffed. "But I understand why he did it." His tone turned soft with introspection. "We all need reasons to fight."

"And what's your reason?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Same as you; what other choice is there?"

He shook his head at himself. That wasn't true; he could have chosen to stay with the pagan deities, or slipped into a pocket dimension somewhere to wait out the End of Days with a margarita in one hand.

"I'm fighting for my family," he amended softly.

Dean was quiet for a moment, and then he raised his glass again. "We have that in common."

Yes, Gabriel supposed they did. "To little brothers, then," he said in another toast.

Dean cracked a grin. "Even when they're pains in the ass."

Gabriel couldn't help but smirk at that. "Hear, hear."

* * *

Sam finished wrapping Cas's forearm with gauze and taping it in place. They'd made a hasty exit from the crypt, but had only driven a few miles outside of town before Sam pulled over to treat the angel's wounds.

Cas took his arm back and started to slip his jacket back on. "Thank you."

"How's the shoulder?"

"Sore." Cas grimaced as he shrugged his arm through the sleeve.

Sam began putting things back in the first aid kit. "I still don't get that, the difference between your two forms. How one can bleed and the other doesn't."

"They both bleed, just in different ways."

Sam shook his head. "Yeah, that's what I don't get."

Cas's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure how to explain it. An angel's grace animal is…spirit. Like humans have souls. Only, you don't possess the ability to extend yours."

"But your shoulder hurts."

"Doesn't your chest hurt even when your heart is the source of pain?"

Sam almost made a quip about yes, if someone's having a heart attack, but decided against it. He knew what Cas was getting at.

He stuck the med kit in the back of the jeep, then bowed his head. "Hell's not going to stop coming after me, is it?" he said quietly.

Cas didn't respond for a moment. "I doubt it," he replied, tone grave.

Sam's knuckles whitened on the rim of the back window. "Should I even go back to Camp Chitaqua? If my being there is gonna put Dean and everyone else in danger—"

"The camp is fortified against angels and demons," Cas said firmly. "And I will fortify it two times over if I have to. But running off on your own would not be wise, Sam."

He closed his eyes against overwhelming anguish. He didn't  _want_  to be alone, but he couldn't bear the thought of putting Dean in harm's way like Cas had been today, or Jo earlier, just because demons were going to do whatever it took to get to him.

"And I will keep searching for answers," Cas went on. He moved closer and clasped Sam's shoulder. "I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

Hot moisture pricked at the corners of Sam's eyes. He didn't deserve that kind of devotion from an angel of all beings. Not as the boy with the demon blood.

But, maybe, it meant he wasn't beyond redemption.

"Thanks, Cas. For everything."

The angel nodded.

"What about these other 'special children'?" Sam added.

"They will also be difficult to track down, but I intend to try," Cas replied.

Sam felt a flutter of trepidation. "But you'll be careful, right?"

The angel gave him a wry look. "Of course." He turned toward the passenger side of the jeep, but paused and looked over his shoulder. "Sam, Hell may have its plans for you, but as you just showed Lilith, you don't have to go along with them."

Sam managed to quirk a fraction of a smile. True. And maybe it was time the demons learned what happened when they messed with a Winchester.

…

NEXT TIME

"What is so important and why couldn't you share it in front of the others?"

Ezra slowed to a stop, and cast a fidgety gaze around the warehouse. "Castiel, there's…there's a mole. In the garrison."

He frowned. "How can you be sure?"

Ezra grimaced, his hands flexing and clenching almost compulsively.

"No one else is here," Castiel said.

"Are you certain about that?" a deep, baritone voice spoke from the shadows.

Castiel whirled, but the only thing he was able to register was a hand slapping down on a sigil painted in the back. Blinding light engulfed him like white fire.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by 29PiecesOfMe


End file.
